Free A Year to Remember by Shelly Bell Page B

you read?” “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
    Ruth rang a bell and my first date began. We began by telling each other our names and then he asked me what I did for a living, my least favorite question. As if our jobs or careers define us. Yes, I’m a psychologist. Now they assume I’m nurturing and I enjoy listening to everyone telling me their problems. After listening to teenagers complaining about how unfair it is they have to abide by their parents rules, I really don’t want to come home and hear my boyfriend complain about his boss at work.
    The first three guys failed to impress me. One guy creeped me out by informing me I reminded him of his mother.
    Then I met Max, a pediatrician with two dogs, a house, and a vacation home in Florida. On paper he sounded impressive, but he never asked me a single question in the whole six minutes. I wasn’t sure if he was an egomaniac or just nervous. I guess I’d give him a second chance, so I circled his number on my card. My mom would be thrilled if I married a Jewish doctor. He obviously liked children and animals. How bad could he be?
    Noah, a lawyer originally from Ohio, had possibilities. When I asked him what he’d do if he won forty million dollars in the lottery, he said he’d pay off the mortgages for his entire family, buy a house in the mountains, and retire, spending his free time doing charity work with the needy. Personally, I think the mountains of Las Vegas are beautiful, but I prefer to stay in the casinos or at the pool. I don’t ski or climb mountains, but I suppose I could always learn if I met the right guy. I circled his name as well.
    After Noah, a smirking Goldman sat at my table.
    “How do you do? I’m Adam,” he said, offering his hand for a handshake.
    I’ll play along. “I’m Sara,” I responded taking his hand. Instead of shaking it, he turned my hand and kissed it. It sent a tingle right to my toes. Damn, why does he always affect me this way? Especially since he’s just toying with me?
    “Sara, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
    I snorted in response, forgetting about the men in the room I was trying to impress. I hoped they didn’t hear it because it’s not the most sophisticated noise in the world.
    “And a rose by any other name ...”
    “Would smell as sweet,” he finished.
    That impressed me. “You know Shakespeare?”
    “I may have read a few of his plays.”
    “Really? Be honest, did you just see the movies?” I teased.
    “You mean you don’t believe me?”
    I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know if he was still pretending or if I insulted him.
    “If you say you’ve read Shakespeare, then I believe you.”
    He sat back in his chair with a studious expression.
    “Where do you want to be in five years?”
    The question made me nervous, and I wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter what I said to him because this wasn’t a real date, right?
    “Why did that question make you nervous?” he inquired.
    “Why do you think it made me nervous?”
    “You always bite your lower lip when you’re anxious. It’s cute.”
    “No, I don’t.” No one had ever told me I did that. Could he be right? Even if he was right, I was floored he knew me that well.
    “Ask Missy, if you don’t believe me.”
    “I will.”
    “So, what’s your answer?”
    Even though I had prepared to ask the same question, I hadn’t thought about how I would answer it. I guess it did make me anxious to think about what I wanted for my future past my next birthday.
    “I want to live in a house in the suburbs with two point four kids, a dog, and two goldfish.”
    “And a husband?”
    I blushed at his question. “Of course a husband. That was to be implied by the house and the kids.”
    “Don’t forget the dog and the goldfish.”
    “Right,” I muttered.
    “I didn’t think you liked fish.”
    He really did know me. “I don’t like fish, but our kids won them at the Purim carnival, so what could we do?”
    His eyebrow